Spacegirl
by planet p
Summary: AU; Papa’s never been aboard a spacehip before. Futuristic/Sci-Fi


Papa highlighted the 'lower volume' strand on her 'play music' upgrade, and took in the sights around her, Maxwelle's lead singer Wella's vocals diminishing into insignificance, and then, silence.

Beta was the first Outer Space Faring vessel she'd set foot on; she was slightly agape.

The ves was old, she'd heard; very old. She didn't know if it was because she was one of the Hearing, or something else entirely, but she felt a shiver build steadily inside her body, charging her with a dark, flighty energy. But, despite the part of her that was Hearing, she was also a Pretender, and it was this part of her which grounded her, rooted her to reality, as grounded as one could say to be on board a 'spacecraft,' and certainly one of Beta's size.

The ves itself was massive, she could put it into no other words, the thing was a giant, impressive, and imposing presence, from inside and from out; it gave the sense of almost being alive.

Pa fought the chills the thought alone sent through her; she could not think like that if she expected to remain onboard this ves for the term she'd been assigned. That's all it was; a large, old ves.

Pa had no parents, so to speak, and, by extension, no family; she was a Thirty-first Century clone of a Twenty-first Century woman known as Parker. Pa, herself, was convinced that the woman was one of her Heard, a 'voice' she'd dubbed Missy; but perhaps that was, for her part, constituting undue romanticism.

Still, it might have been forgivable at her age.

At present, Missy remained silent; but that said very little, given that her other Heards were, also, curiously silent. They were, more than likely, in a similar state of awe as she was. No, not that it said much, because they were not always with her, and, now, with this new assignment she'd taken on as part of the duty of a Cntr staffer, she began to worry that her 'old' Heards would not be able to follow her from Earth's realm, into the realms of Outer Space.

She would have to recruit new Heards; strange, violent Heards, if there were any to be sought, she thought.

Even as she immersed herself further in the ves, she began to feel warmer; comforted, almost. As though the ves had felt her distress, and had responded to placate.

She batted away the absurd thought.

It was time to get acquainted with the areas of the ves she would be permitted to access, to her personal housing, and to the ves' other staffers.

_No time to waste_, she reminded herself, kicking her idle, dawdling legs into action.

* * *

"Have you been in OS before?" a boy asked, his voice coming from behind her.

A frown creased across Pa's pale face, but, as she was listening to the TG, she ignored him. She needed to take in this info, the TG was only onboard until the ves departed; he would be staying on-planet. Then, there would be no one to answer pointless, emotional questions, give directions, or run through the routine until it was down in the mind's of the newest staffers.

"I'm Od," the same boy's voice imparted.

"Shh," she hissed back to him, keeping her eyes trained forward.

"I will if you tell me your name," Od replied.

Pa's face grew red. She had no need to put up with _this_, and no call for it, either. Anger bubbled acidly inside of her, but she found herself stamping it down. No, she wouldn't start that; she'd not start making enemies on her first day. "Papa," she gritted, and supplied no more.

And astonishingly, true to his word, the boy, Od, did not interrupt her a fourth time.

* * *

Following the TG's narrated tour of Beta – the accessible areas, in any case – the First Duty took over, relieving the TG, who departed for the exit, and the familiarity of the planet, and dirt underfoot.

Pa swore she could hear the haunting echo of that dirt beneath her shoes, now, as she headed for 'the Mezz,' where meals were taken three times daily, further into the workings of the ves, and farther from Earth. Like the lour, foreboding motionlessness before the onslaught of violent precipitation.

The 1D was an older man, up to forty years, even, Pa guessed, but not unhandsome, not unsightly. Pa found herself pondering after his name, as off-colour as that would regularly have been for her. But, perhaps, it wasn't that out of sorts. He was good looking, in truth, but moreover, he possessed an air of reliability, of care; steadfastness.

Pa, who'd never had, nor known, a father, found herself suddenly latching onto this person, in the hope that he would be capable of fulfilling that role in a stand-in capacity; a certainty on an uncertain, new life's journey.

In the Mezz, she quickly found a seat at one of the tables, and sat to watch who joined her at the table.

"They don't bring the food out, you have to queue for it," a familiar voice imparted from unfamiliar lips.

With alarm, Pa took in the face of the boy named Od, and, glancing about her at the empty seats, quickly decided that he was speaking truth, and stood. "I take it, you have been aboard an OSF ves before," she spoke primly.

A mixture of hesitancy and measured thought flitted across Od's face, and through his blue, blue eyes. "Ah, yeah," he answered, then twisted his head to the side and gave a short, precise nod in the direction of, where she could now see, a thin, rambling line of people had formed.

The queue.

His eyes returned to hers, blue on blue. "Shall we?"

For a moment, the meaning of his two words eluded her, before it came clear as of to what he referred. She nodded and stepped from the table.

Od waited for her to join him at his side, before he began the trek toward the others with her.

Had she found a friend, she wondered.

* * *

**Spacegirl** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


End file.
